As a youngin I loved horror films. I loved going with friends and getting slightly spooked but mostly I was fearless! We'd walk around at all hours of the night just thinking we were invincible. We didn't expect anything could hurt us. Although, I have one memory of fear.
I was 14, at my friends house one night after basketball practice. I only lived a street away so when the time came for me to head home I said I'd walk. No biggie, I did it all the time. It was an arctic winter night, I was dumb enough to be walking around in sport shorts. I got cold on my way home so I decided to jog. As I reached the top of my friends street and turned the corner I was still at a good pace when I saw a dark figure ahead of me. Instantly, I stopped. Sure, he's probably harmless, but I had this feeling I should stop.
I start to walk as quietly and slowly as I can to put more space between me and this figure. We carry on this way for what feels like forever, but really, must have only been 30 seconds at the most. Just as the figure steps under a light at the end of the next street I step on a slab of ice. Although I slowly put my weight onto it, it cracks.
The figure turns in an instant to face me.
He's wearing a ski mask. You know, the ones that cover your whole face and have the eyes and mouth cut out.
He starts to walk towards me. So slowly. I stare for a moment to make sure my eyes aren't deceiving me. When I am positive that he's headed my way, I pivot and run.
Faster and faster till I can't feel my legs.
I escaped. It could have been harmless. But I ran.